The affirmative’s uncompromising deontological stance necessitates a global war on oppression, ensuring the proliferation of nuclear weapons and global war and instability.
Ellworth, VP of the International Institute for Strategic Studies and director of the Nixon Center, 2005 (Robert, The National Interest, Winter, http://www.findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m2751/is_78/ai_n8686608)

But how foreign policy is conducted also matters, and here it is vitally important that President Bush, in his second term, avoid wrong choices that may bring catastrophic consequences. The second Bush Administration will have to deal with two fundamental dilemmas: first, how to reconcile the war against terror with a commitment to make the world safe for democracy; and second, how to assure that unchallenged U.S. military supremacy is used to enhance America's ability to shape the world rather than provoke global opposition to the United States, making us more isolated and accordingly less secure. The neoconservative vision for conducting American foreign policy is fraught with risks. And continuing to follow the prescriptions of the neoconservative faction in the Republican party may damage President Bush's legacy, imperil the country's fiscal stability and complicate America's ability to exercise global leadership. It has become an article of faith for the increasingly influential alliance of liberal interventionists and neoconservatives that the United States, as the world's democratic hegemonic power, is both entitled and even morally bound to use whatever tools are necessary to save the world from brutality and oppression and to promote democratization around the globe. Up to a point, the War on Terror and encouraging democracy worldwide are mutually reinforcing. President Bush is quite right that democracy, particularly if we are talking about democracy in a stable society coupled with a rule of law and with adequate protection of minority rights, is not only morally preferable to authoritarian rule, but also is the best prescription against the emergence of deeply alienated radical groups prone to terrorism. The "democracy project" also appeals to the highest aspirations of the American people. After all, the Cold War was never driven solely by the need to contain Soviet power, but by the moral conviction that defending freedom in the United States and in the world in general was something worth fighting and dying for--even, in the Berlin Crisis, risking nuclear war itself. High-minded realists do not disagree with the self-appointed champions of global democracy (the neoconservatives and the liberal interventionists) that a strong preference for liberty and justice should be an integral part of U.S. foreign policy. But they realize that there are tradeoffs between pushing for democracy and working with other sovereign states--some not always quite democratic--to combat global terror. Realists also, following the advice of General Charles Boyd, understand the need to "separate reality from image" and "to tell the truth, if only to ourselves"--not to play fast and loose with facts to create the appearance of acting morally. And they are aware that there are important differences in how the United States helps the world achieve freedom. Indeed, in his first press conference after his triumph at the polls, President Bush used three different terms in talking about America's global pro-democracy effort. He discussed the need "to encourage freedom and democracy", to "promote free societies", and to "spread freedom and democracy." "Encouraging" democracy is not a controversial position. Nearly everyone in the world accepts that the sole superpower is entitled and indeed expected to be true to its core beliefs. "Promoting" democracy is vaguer and potentially more costly. Still, if the United States does so without resorting to military force and takes into account the circumstances and perspectives of other nations, then it is likely not to run into too much international opposition. "Spreading" democracy, however, particularly spreading it by force, coercion and violent regime change, is a different thing altogether. Those who suspect they may be on the receiving end of such treatment are unlikely to accept American moral superiority, are bound to feel threatened, and cannot reasonably be expected to cooperate with the United States on other important American priorities, including the War on Terror and nuclear proliferation. Worse still, they may decide that acquiring nuclear weapons is the last--perhaps their only--option to deter an American attempt to overthrow their governments. This already appears to be the dynamic in the case of Iran and North Korea. Also, in dealing with the likes of Tehran and Pyongyang, there can be no certainty with whom they may share nuclear technology. Accordingly, there is a clear and present danger that pro-democracy zeal may enhance the greatest possible threat to U.S. security and the American way of life--the threat of nuclear terrorism.


Deontology in foreign policy leads to messianic wars – crusades prove.
Harries, The National Interest, 2005 (Owen, Fall, p. 66)

The danger implicit in an approach to foreign policy based on the ‘‘ethic of ultimate ends,’’ one which insists on the existence of only one valid and universal moral code which must always be adhered to, is that, by ruling out compromise and flexibility, it will either immobilize a leader, or, if the leader feels powerful enough, lead to a messianic, crusading policy to ensure that the one true good prevails. In the name of untainted virtue, it will tend to rule out—as either cynical or feeble—a tolerant, compromising approach to different interests, values, and institutions. And, again as we have witnessed recently, when such an approach is adopted by some actors it will tend to produce its mirror image in others and to harden the whole climate of international affairs.


Deontology is counterproductive – it produces global wars that only utilitarian realism can solve.
Frankel, prof. of philosophy and public affairs at Columbia University, 1975 (Charles, “Morality and U.S. Foreign Policy”, http://www.carnegiecouncil.org/media/v18_i006_a006.pdf)

It is in this context that the emergence of that approach to American foreign policy known as realism ust be understood. The realists, chastened by the consequences of the combination of isolationism and high pronunciamento that characterized American policy during the long armistice of 1918-39, wanted the United States to become a member, permanent, duespaying, active, of the interstate system of continuous negotiations. But they did not believe that this system would be or could be a redeemed system. They were internationalists who agreed, philosophically, with Henry Cabot Lodge’s jaundiced estimate of the diplomatic world. They needed to put American participation in the international system, therefore, on a new basis. The outcome was realism. It was an effort to put American thinking about foreign affairs in a plane compatible with the country’s conducting a long, unremitting diplomatic enterprise, lit occasionally by successes, darkened much more often by disappointments and frustrations, possibly keeping the planet from another holocaust, but never to be conceived as terminating in a final victory of Light over Darkness.